Vulcan Pride and Human Logic
by moonlight80
Summary: The flu can be something more than an annoyance, even for a Vulcan trained to ignore such trifles. Kirk understands this and does the logical thing. Tries to help Spock forget that he feels terrible.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Vulcan Pride and Human Logic

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. It would be nice, though...

Summary: When Spock comes down with a virus, it's up to two "illogical" humans to make him see reason and take care of himself.

A/N: I'm hoping this is in character. I'm still a little shaky with Kirk...

STSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTST

"Mr. Spock report." Captain James Kirk's voice was uncharacteristically terse, but, to be fair, the science officer was uncharacteristically unresponsive.

The Vulcan shook himself mentally, although his features remained smooth and unchanged. "Star Fleet has requested that we proceed to Syston Four to receive the new medical supplies, as well as take on new crew members." The voice was as cool and collected as it always had been, but there was decidedly something off about it as well. Jim made a metal note to call him on it later.

However, first things first. They did have a planet to get to, after all. "Thank you, Mr. Spock. Mr. Sulu, steady on course to Syston Four, warp one."

"Aye, Captain."

Kirk settled into his chair, smiling comfortably to himself. This wasn't their first mission, not by a long shot, but he would never get tired of hearing those words. "Captain James T. Kirk"; it was a name that just sort of rolled off the tongue.

Several loud, desperate sneezes interrupted the quiet of the bridge. After the first violent sneeze, Jim turned his chair in the direction of the sound, and wasn't surprised to see that it came from his first officer, who had his elbow firmly covering his face, and was turned away from his post. "Mr. Spock..." he started off tentatively, once the man had finished.

"Yes, Captain?"

Kirk studied his face hard for a few seconds and finally just said, "bless you."

An incredulous eyebrow arched. "If memory serves me, Captain, by saying 'bless you' to me, you are implying that you believe, as did the humans hundreds of years before you, that by sneezing I have somehow momentarily lost my immortal soul and you must invoke God's divine hand otherwise I shall become demon possessed. Sir, even if God is real, I do not believe it is possible to lose one's soul, whatever that my be, in such a way. Your sentiment is illogical."

"Spock, normally, when people say that to you, you just say 'thank you' and move on."

Again, illogical. You have done nothing to warrant my thank…" Spock interrupted his own train of thought with another volley of sneezing, followed by a couple minutes of coughing, which left him feeling rather light-headed. However, by the way he tugged at his uniform and turned back to his work, one would have never known of his discomfort. He sniffed so quietly that a less observant man that Kirk wouldn't have heard it.

Jim sighed quietly. "Mr. Spock, are you feeling well?"

"I assure you, Captain, I am more than capable of performing my duties, in spite of my current condition." He coughed again, but in a much more quiet and controlled manner.

Capable, yes, but should you get worse..."

"Should I get worse, the logical thing to do would be to go to sick bay and see Dr. McCoy. However, as of yet I do not require medical attention."

Kirk shook his head. The damn Vulcan had a reply to everything. He tried a different approach. "If you say so, Spock, but I'd really rather you not infect my whole bridge, either."

A thoughtful look flitted across Spock's face. "Understood Captain. With your permission, I would like to retire to my quarters."

"I think that would be the wisest thing to do."

Spock left the bridge and returned to his quarters. He changed into his sleepwear and shivered. Although he had been off Vulcan for years, he still felt the chill of being off-world, especially when he was ill already. Never the less, he would make the most of his down time. He pulled out a PADD and started to skim over the new roster. Several new scientists were joining them for one mission, and that was of professional interest to him. He knew a couple names on the list from his cadet days, but most of the people he'd never heard of, and those he knew he wasn't particularly friends with. Not that a Vulcan needed friends, to be sure. Comrades, of course, but friends filled an emotional need that they simply didn't have. Or wanted to deny, at any rate. Spock's head throbbed mercilessly, refusing to allow him to read any further. Reluctantly, he set the PADD aside and closed his eyes, allowing his body to try to go into a healing trance.

Something forced him to wake up a few hours later. He wasn't sure if it was his sore throat, his still aching head or his stuffy nose. Sock sneezed violently and sniffled, then reached for a tissue from the box next to his bed. He sat up and blew his nose, touching the side of his temple. He felt terrible, to be frank. And the only way to manage the feeling would be to focus on something else. Like his duties on the ship. Spock had never allowed his body to dictate his actions, and was not about to start now. "Spock to sick bay." He croaked into his comm.

"McCoy here. Jim told me I might have the pleasure of talking to you today, Spock."

"Dr. McCoy, I require your medical expertise, not your wit, thank you. I'm on my way down to sick bay, and would rather that the less said about the matter the better."

"Alright, I won't make a big deal out of it. I'm glad you're on your way, though. Saves me the trouble of ordering you down here. If we have a ship wide epidemic, I'd rather stop it early."

"Yes, Doctor. I hope, however, that is not the case."

A few minutes later, Spock perched on the edge of an exam table, awaiting McCoy's verdict. "Well Doctor?" He pulled a tissue from a box McCoy had set by the bed and wiped his nose carefully.

"Well Mr. Spock, you seem to have caught yourself a fine case of Chloridian flu. Not fatal, but most victims find themselves wishing it was. You must have picked it up on Space Station Three."

Spock's eyebrow raised. "Chloridian flu? If I remember correctly that disease can only be spread to another life form by a Chloridian, am I right?"

Well yes. You aren't contagious, if that's what you're asking."

"Have I ever been?"

"Not with this particular strain of virus, no. Why do you ask?"

As I pose no danger to the rest of the crew, I request to return to my duties on the bridge."

"Spock, you're not fit for duty. What part of 'most people wish the disease was fatal' did you not understand?"

"An illogical reaction to an illness that seems to be nearly harmless. When one's mind is set against allowing something minor, like this illness, to overwhelm them, the body is forced to follow suit."

"Mind over matter."

"Exactly, Doctor."

"You're running a damn high fever, Spock."

"High is relative. It's a mild one, by Vulcan standards."

"Whether you want to admit this or not, you're half human, Spock. What this 'mild' fever of yours is doing to the human part of your body is anyone's guess."

"I have been ill before, McCoy. This fever is hardly something to become alarmed about."

"You know I can relieve you of duties, as the chief medical officer, don't you?"

"That would be illogical. I already told you I was able to complete my…" A fit of sneezing made it so the Vulcan wasn't able to finish his protest.

"Bless you, Spock." Spock, who was clearing his nose softly in a tissue, turned to the new voice and quirked an eyebrow. He was a bit too occupied to say anything about the blessing this time, however. Jim strode up to the table and eyed the patient. "I see you came to sick bay, which tells me that you must be feeling a little bad, at least."

"It was simply the logical thing to do, Captain." He tossed the tissue into the waste bin McCoy held out for him. "I needed to ensure that I was not a risk to the rest of the crew before returning to duty."

"So you're telling me this has nothing to do with the fact that's you've never been out sick once, even when you were a cadet, and you don't want to see that record broken? Or you're just opposed to taking sick time in general?"

Spock's face twitched very slightly, but he neither confirmed nor denied the accusations.

"See Bones," the young captain quipped lightly, "Vulcans are just as prone to feeling pride in some illogical achievement as we lowly humans are. Or that could just be the human side in him coming out. I mean, it has to be illogical to work when you feel like hell, right?"

"As I was telling the doctor before you came in, I am perfectly capable of working through this bit of discomfort."

Kirk rolled his eyes. "That sort of bullshit only goes so far, Spock. Sooner or later your body's gonna have to give in to its better judgment."

McCoy quirked a subtle smile. "You know, Jim, I always wondered what a Vulcan in a dead faint would look like."

"Vulcans do not faint, Dr. McCoy." Came an almost indignant reply.

"There's always a first time for everything. And you will if you insist on pushing yourself."

Jim leaned against the wall casually. "You know, I have the evaluations for my senior staff coming up. Poor performance reflects worse on them than a few well deserved sick days."

Sharp dark eyes flicked in Kirk's direction. "I hardly think my performance has been poor, Captain."

"Going back to work when you have a condition that could cause you to react slowly in an emergency would be considered a poor performance."

Spock's gaze went quickly from one face to the other. Jim's expression was bland and a little regretful, as if he truly hated giving his first officer anything less than a shining evaluation. McCoy just looked a bit annoyed.

Spock's shoulders slumped ever so slightly; his only outward show of defeat. "Your logic is solid." His tired eyes met Kirk's. "Permission to remain in my quarters until I am fully recovered, Captain."

Jim grinned and patted Spock's knee impulsively, surprised when the man didn't pull away. "I think that would be a very good, very logical choice, Mr. Spock." He turned to leave when Spock sneezed again. A tug of sympathy pulled at his mind when he saw how miserable Spock looked. "Oh, and Spock?"

"Yes Captain?"

"I might come down to your quarters after I'm done on the bridge tonight. I'm sort of in the mood to kick your ass at a game of chess, while the kicking's good."

There was a tilt of the head and an incline of an eyebrow before he responded. "Captain... Jim... I hardly see you besting me at chess any time in the near future."

Kirk laughed. "Yeah Bones, Vulcans can have their pride hurt, too." He left before Spock could drum up a suitable response.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Vulcan Pride and Human Logic

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. It would be nice, though...

Summary: The flu can be something more than an annoyance, even for a Vulcan trained to ignore such trifles. Kirk understands this and does the logical thing. Tries to help Spock forget that he feels terrible.

A/N: Thank you SO much to everyone who reviewed. There should be at least one or two more chapters after this one. I know this is short, but I'll try to make up for it next time.

STSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTST

2100 hours rolled around slowly. Too slowly for Jim, who was waiting for his chance to kick his Vulcan friend's ass at chess. Normally a game of chess would have done very little to interest the captain, who was a man of action, but it was always a bit more interesting when Spock played. The fun thing about playing with Spock was watching him think. Chess, while just a pastime to Kirk, was something not to be taken lightly for the Vulcan. Jim always felt he could see the circuits working overtime in his brain.

"You have the bridge, Mr. Sulu." Jim was already out of his chair before Sulu could reply. Before he went to Spock's quarters, he stopped by the dining hall for a large bowl of vegetable and rice soup, only lightly seasoned; as Vulcan food was known for it's bland flavor. After a quick drop by sick bay to ask Bones what else his sick first officer would need, Jim stood outside Spock's door, arms laden with the soup, some water, pain killers, and, if the need arose, an extra blanket.

Spock looked up from the PADD he'd been trying to read when the door chimed. His head throbbed almost incessantly but he wasn't focusing on the pain. Or, rather, he was trying not to focus on the pain. "Come." His voice was stuffy almost to the point of being comical. He closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. Had he known he was going to sound this way, he was sure he would not have told Jim he'd be allowed to join him for chess. Spock stood and straightened his body into its perfect posture, and pulled at his casual shirt, removing all wrinkles that may have accumulated.

Kirk took in the sight of the tissues scattered around the floor of the desk and the bed in faint surprise. The quarters were normally so tidy that one would think on one lived in them. Seeing them like this would have been enough to tell him that the occupant wasn't fully himself. Then his gaze settled on Spock. He was standing at near-attention, but looked as if he would welcome the chance to collapse into the near-by arm chair and an unhealthy greenish flush tinged his cheeks. If Kirk had known less about Vulcan anatomy, he'd have been afraid that Spock was going to be sick any second. As it was, the flush told him that the fever was higher than it had been earlier that day. Kirk twitched an eyebrow in a way that eerily resembled Spock's way of conveying skepticism. "Sit down before you fall down, Spock." He set down his arm load and sighed. The quarters, while normally unusually warm, were stifling. He wondered why McCoy had even suggested the extra blanket, until he caught his first officer eying it as if it were the most wondrous thing he'd ever laid eyes on. "I didn't bring it into this sauna for my use. Take it."

"Thank you, Captain." Spock set it on his bed to use when Jim had safely left the room and he didn't have to be necessarily proper. "Computer, raise temperature by two degrees."

"Belay that order, Computer. Spock, I brought you that thing for you to use. I'm not going to say anything if you wear it now. Besides, I think you wearing a blanket around yourself would be much less offensive to all involved than me sweating to death."

Well when he put it the way. Spock wrapped the blanket around his thin shoulders and sat down at his small table. The chess board had already been set up. "Would you care to have a seat, Captain?"

Jim nodded and sat down, but didn't seem to want to start playing right away. His concerned eyes were still skimming over Spock's already pallid body, checking for anything else that could be off. He had to bite his lip to keep from grinning at the slightly greenish, chapped nose, although, in and of itself, the fact that it was already over-abused and raw was not the slightest bit amusing. But the fact that Vulcan's noses turned green when they were overly wiped was. A mental image of what cold and flu season must have looked like on Vulcan flashed quickly through his mind, causing him to almost laugh. Jim squelched the laugh by handing Spock the large soup bowl and a spoon. "Here, dinner first, then we can enjoy our evening." He pulled out a chicken salad sandwich from a package Spock had failed to see before.

"Thank you, Jim. However, I am unsure that it would be wise for me to finish all this, as my stomach seems to be a bit on the upset side." There was no true regret in the first officer's voice, but it did shake ever so imperceptibly, as if the queasiness he confessed to was more prominent than he wished to let on, which, in fact, was the case.

Kirk nodded in complete kindness and understanding. "Just eat what you can, Mr. Spock. I'm not gonna be offended if you don't want my soup. God knows I've been sick like that before."

Spock took a few spoonfuls of the soup before setting it down and reaching for one of the many tissue boxes he had so logically set up around the key points in his quarters. He sneezed rapidly and violently into them, the fit leaving him feeling weak and drained.

Kirk looked away, wanting to give his friend some pretense of privacy, at any rate. When Spock had finished and cleared his nose firmly, the young captain turned back. "Well, I'd ask if you were feeling any better, but I think I just got my answer. Did Bones tell you how long this virus holds on to people?"

Spock sighed. "Indeed. Without going into too deep of detail as to his insults upon my species, it would appear that, had I inherited my mother's iron based blood, I would not be as inconvenienced as I am presently. According to Dr. McCoy, this strain of virus seems to thrive in copper based blood, such as my own." His face was impassive, his voice cool and collected, but he was unable to keep just the barest hint of annoyance from his shadowed eyes. "It is most… disheartening."

Jim didn't smile, or even feel the need to do so. Spock looked more miserable than he knew it was possible for him to look, and he felt oddly honored. The fact that the very private man trusted him enough to let his guard down and show him that he was, indeed, something more than uncomfortable was humbling. "Do you need me to grab you anything else?"

"No, thank you, Captain." It was enough that he was there, honestly. With Uhura on emergency leave to deal with her own family illness, Spock had readied himself to struggle through this alone. Not, of course, that he needed anyone to assist him, at any rate. He pushed his bowl to the side, not wanting to even look at it right then. "As you are my guest, I should ask if there is anything you require." Spock braced his hands on the arms of his chair, ready to push himself up, should Kirk tell him that he needed or wanted anything.

"Spock, I'm not here as your guest, I'm here as your friend. There's a big difference. Friends get their own crap. They also get crap for friends who don't feel too good. You want some water? It should have stayed cold."

Spock shivered. "Thank you, no, Jim. I think the last thing I would like is a beverage that would make me colder than I already am." He stopped talking, a slight frown of thought playing between his eyebrows. "However, I would not say no to some hot tea, if it would be most convenient for you."

"Hot tea, you got it." Kirk was on his feet and facing Spock's food processor. "Hot tea, with lemon and honey."

Spock glanced up at him. "With respect, I don't take sweetener in my tea."

"It's not for sweetening your tea, Spock, it's for your throat. An old Earth remedy, you could call it. It actually tastes pretty bad, if that makes you feel any better."

"Vulcans don't actually want their food to taste bad, whatever you think."

"I think you could have fooled me. I've seen, smelled and yes, actually tasted the shit you people pass as food."

"A difference in taste does not actually make the food bad, Jim." Spock sipped the tea and closed his eyes appreciatively. "For example, this is not as bad as you claim."

"Vulcan for saying he likes it." Kirk thought to himself ruefully. His eyes turned concerned again when his friend fairly dropped his cup and started to cough deeply. On impulse, Jim was at his side, his hand resting lightly on Spock's arm. Had the man been McCoy or any of his human companions, he would have patted and rubbed his back, while muttering nonsense words of comfort to them As it was, he was at a loss. Finally, not caring if the Vulcan took offense or not, Kirk rubbed the thin back lightly, his touch growing firmer when Spock didn't pull away. Kirk kept one hand on Spock's back, and held the cooled container of water out with the other. "I know it's cold, but it'll help."

Spock sipped it without protest this time, allowing the water to sooth his aching throat. "Thank you." He finally managed, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders.

"No problem." Jim took the thanks to mean for both the water, and the physical comfort, of which neither of them would ever speak. "So, you still up for that game?"

Spock nodded. "Please, I find that when my mind is active, every other aspect of my person falls into the background."

Kirk grinned. "Yeah, I guess focusing on something else when I'm sick makes me feel better, too."

TBC


End file.
